Bad Timing
by nextuesday
Summary: Jack avoids Sam after a mission almost ends in tragedy. Set in season 7, post-Heroes. S/J


"You're avoiding me," she said from the doorway. Leaning against the wooden frame that led in to the lounge, she could see that he was sporting yet another beer. He didn't turn to look at her, merely took a long drag from the cool beverage. She stepped down the two steps into the room, but didn't advance further, keeping his back to her. "You just gonna ignore me?" She felt sure of herself, brave enough to call him out on his behaviour.

"Believe it or not Carter, I don't spend every waking minute considering how my actions may or may not affect you," he regretted it the moment he said it. She bowed her head, crossing her arms. Several minutes passed by, the tension between them was palpable.

***Two Days Earlier***

SG1 were at the Gate, three of them providing covering fire while Daniel scurried to dial Home. After a few agonizing minutes, the Gate was open and Jack waved him through. "Carter, go!" He said once Daniel had disappeared. She nodded, making eye contact with him briefly before darting from her defensive position and making her way to the Gate. Jack looked away from his cross hairs to make sure she got through. Instead, he spotted her laying just a few feet from the Gate, out cold. "Dammit," he hissed under his breath as he felt his stomach drop and the panic begin to rise. "Teal'c, cover me!" The Jaffa nodded and began spraying the tree line with blasts from his staff weapon.

Jack ran from his position to the boulder Carter had been behind. His vision was clearer now - she didn't appear to have been shot. "Carter!" he yelled, to no avail. He pulled a grenade from his vest, "Grenade!" he shouted as he pulled the pin and threw it as hard as he could in to the tree line. The moment it left his hands he was running, a million thoughts racing through his mind. _What if she was dead? I can't lose her. No. Not today. Carter, dammit, come on_. He reached her, grabbed her by the vest and scrambled to find the staff blast, the bullet wounds. Nothing. As her head rolled away from him he noticed a dart, _so primitive,_ he thought, _so deadly_, _fuck_. He hesitantly but quickly pulled it from her neck and pocketed it. "Teal'c, come on!" he yelled as he slid his arms underneath her shoulders and knees, shifting his gravity so that she fell against him, and took the few feet through the Gate.

Doctor Reed, the latest in a series of potential SGC doctors since Dr. Fraiser's death, had Carter on a stretcher within moments of crossing the event horizon. Jack ran behind the medical officers heading toward the infirmary, pulling the dart from his vest pocket. "Here," he handed it to a nurse, "They got her in the neck," the nurse nodded and he watched, as if in slow motion, as they entered the emergency triage room and the double doors closed before him. His breath hitched in his chest, the adrenaline slipping away and leaving panic. He kicked the wall outside the infirmary, ripping his hat off and ran a hand through his hair. His breathing slowed, and he felt tears tug at his eyes.

In the locker room, as Jack was removing his field gear, Daniel spotted a photograph in Jack's open locker. "It's today, isn't it?" Daniel asked hesitantly.  
"What?" Jack snapped. Daniel gestured toward the photograph. "Oh. Yeah."

"How are you doing?"  
Jack threw the rest of his gear into his locker, and slammed the door closed. "I'm gonna go check on Carter," he mumbled as he pulled a black shirt over his head and left the room.

Daniel rose slowly from the bench and opened Jack's locker. The photograph was worn and age was beginning to tear the edges. Jack stood beside his wife, one arm around her and the other sitting atop the shoulder of his son. The anniversary of their very first mission through the Stargate was only two days away. Daniel knew that this coincided with the untimely death of Jack's son. Eight years ago today.

Jack entered the infirmary, spotting the doctor in Fraiser's office. It would always be her office. He knocked. "How is she?" He asked.  
Reed looked up from a chart he was filling out. "She's okay," he smiled, "The dart was laced with a paralytic, and we had to intubate her. Its effects were only temporary. We've finally got her breathing on her own. It's up to the Major now." Jack nodded and walked slowly from bed to bed, some occupied, some empty. He reached the second to last bed, the only bed with curtains drawn around it. Peering through a gape in the curtains, he could see all assortments of cables and cords attached to her – he'd seen her that way before. He took the seat beside her bed and watched her breathe. He found it relaxing, comforting, that she was there lying before him. He took her hand in his, reassured by the warmth of her palm.

***Present Day***

SG1 had decided to celebrate the eighth anniversary of the first trip through the Gate with a barbeque at Jack's house. All of SG1 was there as well as several people form the SGC. Stories were shared, some embarrassing, and some heroic. Things took a more solemn turn when Dr. Fraiser was mentioned. Several toasts and even more drinks later, the group slowly thinned until Carter and Jack were left alone to clean up the mess.

"Believe it or not Carter, I don't spend every waking minute considering how my actions may or may not affect you," he said. She took a long breath and waited as several minutes passed by. Finally, she took a seat on an armchair by the cold fireplace.  
"I'm sorry," she said quietly, not looking at him.  
"For what?"  
"Your son," the bravery that had fueled her earlier was now slipping away. He looked up at her, registering her struggle, her reluctance, her fear. He felt guilty for that. He didn't want her to fear anything around him. He needed her honesty, he complexity… he needed her.

"Just… bad timing, I guess," he said softly, the edge in his voice softening. He took along sip of beer.

They sat in silence for a long time; the living room began to darken as the light outside began to fade. "We do this," he said eventually, his hand gestured between the two of them, "We go through the Gate and every time there's a chance we might not make it home." She looked up at him. "And I used to wish that I wouldn't make it home." He stared at the now empty beer in his hands. "But then this happened," he once again registered the space between them, "And now all I think about is the day that you don't make it home." She opened her mouth to retaliate, somehow defend herself although she wasn't sure against what, but he interrupted her, "You could have died on that planet."

"But I didn't," she said quietly.

"That's not the point. I could have lost you." He dropped the empty bottle on to the coffee table, and rested his head in his hands. She considered moving for a long time before she finally stood and moved to sit down on the lounge beside him. She sighed heavily, and took the hand closest to her, holding it firmly. He lifted his head and looked at her – eyes moist and concern written all over his face.

"You've lost a lot," she said, "But I'm here. I'm right here." She laced her fingers with his and brought them to her lips. He suddenly pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her tightly and burying his face in her neck. He inhaled deeply, tightening his hold on her. She melted against him, allowing her arms to snake around his body and hold him ever closer to her. "I'm not going anywhere," she whispered. He kissed her neck softly, and pulled back to look at her. He cupped her face with his hands, brushing his lips against hers ever so slightly, and pulled her close to him once again, allowing her head to rest on his shoulders and they sat there, together, until the darkness outside enveloped the house.

End.


End file.
